Something Between Us
by Clilunia-Millennium
Summary: Aimee moves to Stardew Valley to escape life at Joja, but life in a small town isn't as simple as she thought it would be. Will the complications of love, loneliness, and fear of failure drive her back to the life she knows? (Early chapters will be PG-13, future chapters will be Mature content)


_**Author's Note** : Hey all. This is my first-ever fanfic! I have used some of Stardew Valley's original dialogue in places to anchor it to the story and characters we know and love. I do not claim ownership of said content. Like the story? Want to give your predictions? Leave a review! I'd love to hear your thoughts._

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There may as well have been a natural disaster.

When Aimee got her first glimpse of her grandfather's farm, she wondered how long it had been neglected. A jungle of weeds and waist-high grass was pocked with fallen knotty logs and craggy boulders, graduating into a thicket of crowded trees before she could see the other end of the property line. She knew she was moving to a farm, but how in the world was she supposed to tackle this?

The mayor - an older, friendly man named Lewis - walked her around the perimeter of the land. The morning sun caught the brim of his flat cap and cast a shadow over his eyes, but a smile lifted the edges of his mustache as he remembered the golden days of Thatcher Farms.

"You wouldn't know it now, but years ago, your grandfather had something good going here. This farm was the backbone of Pelican Town," he said as he looked back towards the path leading to the center of town. "I spent many a night at the saloon with him, celebrating a hard day's work."

He drifted off for a moment while Aimee took in the sight of her new home. A glorified shed. She said a silent prayer for indoor plumbing. It was small, but it couldn't be too small for a shower, right? A toilet? She told herself that if she walked in the house and there wasn't a proper bathroom, she'd be on the first bus out of here. There's only so much a woman can take. She threw her thick hair into a ponytail and refocused on Lewis.

"...maybe I'll tell you some stories once you're settled in."

"That would be great. Thank you, Mr. Mayor."

"Oh, please!" he said with a hearty laugh. "Please call me Lewis. I've run unopposed for 20 years, I hardly think I deserve the honorifics. I'll walk you back and let you take it from there. It's a small town, but I think you'll find most people are willing to help where they can, so introduce yourself and don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it. I'm always around."

"Lead the way!" said Aimee as she gestured back to the path, perked up by the idea of a place that didn't look like it needed a lifetime of work.

Pelican Town was something straight out of a movie. Here, the businesses were worn in with decades - maybe even generations - of dirt and life and maintenance and love. The saloon, scattered with relics from the dessert and a towering taxidermy bear that somehow felt more comforting than frightening. The bait shop, held together by a ramshackle roof of driftwood. Along the sides of the building, saltwater-crusted ropes, nets, and life preservers hung as a testament to years spent reeling in the most legendary of catches. And Pierre's charming general store, packed to the gills with everything truly essential - and a few things otherworldly, like an inexplicable gilded shrine to Yoba.

It was a far cry from the high-rise apartments, the gargantuan office buildings with fields of identical cubicles, and the rivers of cars flowing down every road at all hours. In fact, there was only one road here: the one Aimee came in on. The rest were sidewalks and dirt paths. But without the familiar whoosh of traffic, nature rushed in with a symphony of chaotic, beautiful noise.

She sauntered around the edge of town, shaking hands and smiling at all the neighbors she wouldn't remember the names of for a while.

But in an instant, the idyllic tableau was interrupted by an unwelcome and all-too-familiar sight. A tall structure of freshly poured cement and streamlined metal siding, glass doors gleaming in the sun. Announced by a billboard almost as big as the building, the bane of her life in the city: Joja Mart.

Granted, her days weren't spent ringing up groceries or moving boxes. But she spent far too long in a cramped cubicle, hunched over her desk, squinting at the blue light of the screen at an endless barrage of spreadsheets, repeating the same day over and over, eventually finding a strange comfort in the monotony while it sucked away her energy and imagination. She wasn't sure how her grandfather knew that she'd eventually need to get away from it all. Actually, she still wasn't sure if he was right. But here she was.

Aimee stood on a bridge over the river but did not budge an inch closer, afraid that she may be sucked in by its gravitational pull. As she took in the sight of it, rooted to the spot, a young man emerged from the sliding doors. Stretching victoriously, he walked in her direction as he slid off the cap of his uniform to reveal wild blonde hair.

"Hey, I don't think I've seen you here before," he said, holding his hand out. "I'm Sam."

Aimee laughed. "Yeah I guess a new girl is easy to spot around here. Sorry, but do you work at Joja Mart?"

"Yeah," he said, running his hands through his hair bashfully. "Just for now. I've got other things planned, we'll see." Without saying a word Aimee nodded slowly in agreement, hoping Joja had lost its hold on her own ideas of happiness. She had no concrete plan, really, but getting free from the hypnotic glow of a computer screen was a start.

Sam looked up at the afternoon sky, leaning back on the handrail as he quickly settled into a daydream. "The clouds look great this time of year, don't they? Like scoops of vanilla ice cream floating on blue raspberry sauce..."

Aimee didn't look up. Instead she fixed her eyes on Sam. His hair defied gravity, even after hours under a hat. The worn cotton of his Joja uniform laid flat against his thin body, hinting at slight definition beneath. Even while his thoughts were elsewhere, his fingers tapped a rhythm against the stone. Just then, Sam's stomach grumbled lightly.

"...or maybe I'm just hungry," he said self consciously.

Aimee laughed and held her stomach, "I'm always hungry. So where should I go for good food around here?"

"Well, Gus makes a mean pizza, if you take a walk over to the saloon," Sam replied, pointing west. "But my absolute favorite is cactus fruit. Normally, you can only get it in the desert, but once in a while there's a traveling caravan in the forest that has some. It's not as weird as it sounds."

"Good to know! Well, it was nice meeting you, Sam. I better get back to the farm and figure out where to start. Sounds like a pizza is in my future later, though. Have a goo-"

"You never told me your name, new girl."

"Oh! Sorry. I'm Aimee. Thatcher. The new farmer." His calloused hand gently shook hers.

"See you around, Aimee." She broke his friendly gaze and turned back toward the western path that led back to the farm.


End file.
